


All In A Golden Afternoon

by TeatimeDuchess



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:13:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7323817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeatimeDuchess/pseuds/TeatimeDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty is just a simple florist who needs to get some work done outside. And he has no idea who this gorgeous, blue-eyed customer is, but he'll  help him any way he knows how.</p><p>Flower shop au drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All In A Golden Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> I've been seeing some flower shop zimbits AU's floating around tumblr and was super inspired (since I myself am a florist!). This is semi-based on one of my own encounters with a customer (no, this is not how I met my darling s/o).
> 
> Huge thanks and much love to PranksterNerd and my literary wife, TheLordofLaMancha, for beta-ing this silly little thing!
> 
> Enjoy!

It's hot and humid outside in Providence, but it’s honestly nothing compared to the utterly hellish summer weather of Madison. With that thought giving him strength, Eric voluntarily goes outside when no one else is willing to water and prune the plants. The garden centre of the flower shop that he works for isn't all that big, so it really shouldn't take him too much time.

Within the first few minutes of being outdoors, and even with sunscreen caked onto his skin, he can feel the heat of the sun baking down on him. And he loves it. 

He's kneeling on the ground, clipping away the dead leaves and tendrils of some white mandevillas when he hears shuffling behind him. Eric tightens the little black apron around his waist as he stands up. He's wearing a large smile and there's already a charming greeting on his lips. 

"Good mornin' sir! Is there anything I can help you with?"

The dark haired man seems startled out of his thoughts, and as he turns to face Eric, the southern man can see brilliant blue eyes beneath the cover of a baseball cap. His breath catches in his chest. The customer standing before him is, to put it lightly, beautiful. Chiseled features, broad shoulders, about half a foot taller than Eric is. The T-shirt the man is wearing is just this side of too small so that the muscles of his arms and chest are perfectly visible through the dark, stretch fabric. Eric can feel a heavy flush rising to his face that has nothing to do with the heat.

The customer looks uncertainly at Eric and he's gripping his phone nervously.

"Good morning. I was wondering if you could help me..."

He sounds unsure, even through the anxiety- induced monotony of his voice. Eric tries to calm his own racing heart and act as loose and relaxed as possible to make the customer feel a little more at ease.

"It would be my pleasure! Is there anythin' you were lookin' for in particular today?"

His voice is bubbly and he winces a little as he realizes that it's gone up an octave. It's embarrassing how easily this gorgeous man has affected him.

"I just moved into a new apartment in town. And my balcony is looking a little...empty."

Eric jumps on that, asking him how many hours of sunlight his balcony gets, if he wants colour or maybe just some neutral greens, if there's a certain vibe he wants. The customer looks a little startled and overwhelmed and Eric quickly backs up.

"I'm so sorry. That's a lot of information I just threw at you!" He laughs nervously, hoping the man isn't going to just walk away. Instead, the customer laughs a little too, his shoulders way less tense than they had been when he first arrived.

"Well, I'm glad you know what you're talking about." The 'because I have no idea what I'm doing' goes unsaid.

The man scrolls through his phone and pulls up a picture of his balcony to show Eric. It's all metal and glass, greys and whites and straight lines. Contemporary and sleek. Cold and barren.

Eric wipes his palms on his apron and holds out his hand and gestures to the phone with a warm smile.

"Would you mind if I-"

The customer shakes his head and hands his phone over, watching Eric hmm and haw over the outdoor space. He isn't 100% sure, but it seems as though his customer looks relieved.

"How do you feel about somethin' that's only greens AND completely practical? Adding greens into the space should make it feel more relaxin' and calm. You could do a long, hanging herb garden from the railing and maybe a Kimberly fern beside your chairs in the corner. The herbs would be wonderful for cooking somethin' fresh or to put in a salad. Now, we don't have any of those hooking, hangin' planters here, but up the street there's a nursery and they have lots to choose from there. You could probably find a matchin' vase for the fern too."

The customer nods his head, lips quirking up in a small, genuine smile.

"I don't cook a whole lot. I mean, I've been trying to cook for myself more now that I'm living alone. Healthy stuff."

Eric can sense that the customer wants to say more, but is still hesitant. Eric doesn't push for information as he hands back the man's phone. They discuss herbs, which ones he's most likely to use and which ones would make a lovely salad. Eric collects the little potted plants in his arms and helps the man to the cash register inside the shop. The 3 other florists that are inside go absolutely still and quiet as Eric rings him through. They won't stop staring at the customer, and he can tell that the man is starting to get all tense again. Eric shoots his co-workers a curious but scolding look as he slips the man's receipt into the brown paper bag and grabs it from the counter. The customer all but runs out of the store with the Kimberley fern in his hands, his shoulders hunched. Eric follows at a slower pace with the bag of herbs, still wondering why the three of them wouldn't stop staring.

Just as he's about to apologize on behalf of them, the customer pipes up.

"You know, I'm pretty awful at picking out decor items for myself." Mr. Blue Eyes lets the randomly stated fact hover in the air before clearing his throat awkwardly. Eric sets down the bag in the trunk of the black car, sleek and new, just like the man's balcony. He hums in quiet contemplation of the man's apparent fault.

"And I wouldn't mind some help." He continues.

Eric stares at the man like he's grown a second head. He's in shock, disbelief tingling up his spine. Without thinking, Eric says, "You don't even know my name." A stupid, rude thing to say.

The customer is standing there fiddling with his phone again, nervousness creeping back into his posture. Eric stutters out an enthusiastic sorry.

"I didn't mean- I mean, yes I can help you. Of course I can." He groans out another apology. "And for the record, my name is Eric." He holds out his hand and forces that charming southern smile back onto his face. Because he is a gentleman, polite to a fault just like his mama taught him.

And just like that the customer relaxes again.

"Jack." The man replies in a teasing tone now that he knows that Eric is on board with helping him. He shakes Eric's hand with a firm, warm grip.

"When would you be free?"

He looks down at Eric with a sort of fondness that makes the southerner's heart pound loud in his ears.

"Tonight!" He grimaces after a moment's thought. "I mean. The nursery will be closed by the time I get off today. So... how about Monday?"

2 days from now is the next time he's off from work. It also gives him time to cool his head before going on this not-date with Jack, the most gorgeous customer he's ever had. 

"Monday. Good. It's a date."

Both of them blush heavily and Eric sucks in a sharp breath when Jack says 'date'. Okay so, it is a date?

"Is this a date? Because home decor shopping is not my ideal scenario for gettin' to know someone."

Eric realizes what he's said too late and wishes he could crawl into a hole. Jack just laughs and his smile grows.

"And what is your ideal scenario then, Eric?" 

For a man who was nervous about talking about plants just a few minutes ago, Jack certainly knows how to sound suave and cocky. And the way that Eric's name rolls off his tongue with just that hint of some sort of accent sends shivers down the smaller man's back.

"Drinks...dinner?"

He's at a loss for words now that he's being called out on his stupid comment. 

"Drinks and dinner it is then. You said you're free tonight?"

Eric nods numbly. "After 7..."

Jack smiles brighter and gets Eric to write down his address and phone number before getting into his car and waving as he drives off. 

Eric stands there for a few minutes, staring at the spot where Jack waved to him. A date. Tonight. He claps his hands to his cheeks and scurries back inside just as his co-workers scramble away from the windows. His bunch cutters lay forgotten on the ground outside.

"Bitty, do you even know who that was?"

He's bombarded by his coworkers the moment he steps through the door. Before he can respond (with a resounding 'no'), Christopher pipes up, his voice all dreamy and dazed.

"Jack Zimmermann."

The three of them give Eric a 10 minute power talk all about Jack Zimmerman's hockey career and life that leaves the southerner reeling. Now he realizes why Jack had been so tense when they stared at him (not that anyone wouldn't be anxious with 3 strangers gawking at them). Honestly, he doesn't care about Jack being famous (and he'd rather hear Jack's story from the man himself). He's just ecstatic that he asked him out.

"We're going on a date tonight..."

Two of his coworkers start chirping him relentlessly, while Christopher looks so excited that he might faint.

Eric doesn't know if his poor little southern heart can handle going on a date with Jack now that he knows he's a celebrity (even if he keeps telling himself that it's not a big deal). But he sure as heck is going to try.


End file.
